


The Mad Doctor Ackles and his Fantastic Fucking Machine

by blackrabbit42



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Fucking Machines, M/M, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 09:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14668392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrabbit42/pseuds/blackrabbit42
Summary: Jared was thinking that it was the strangest trick he'd ever turned, and that wasbeforeDr. Ackles had shown him the laboratory car.





	The Mad Doctor Ackles and his Fantastic Fucking Machine

++++++++

Jared groaned and looked at the chart that Dr. Ackles was holding in front of his face. He needed every bit of concentration to keep from spraying his load all over the laboratory floor, and the vibrations of the train weren’t helping, and he was really, really grateful that the chart took the form of pictures, rather than words or numbers, because he was pretty sure that he didn’t have two brain cells to rub together, and reading was definitely not within the scope of his abilities at this particular moment.

“That one,” he managed to gasp. Though his hands were clamped firmly into position near his shoulders, he indicated with a free finger the figure that accurately depicted how stretched he felt, compared to his maximum perceived tolerance. He’d chosen the next to the last one, for although he was close to his limit, and on any other day would be safewording his fool head off, he was intrigued. Dr. Ackles made him want to know just how far he could go.

“Okay, a minor adjustment then,” Dr. Ackles said briskly, pushing up his glasses and making a note on his chart. From the corner of his eye, Jared saw Dr. Ackles turn the dial into the red zone. Then all went black.

++++++++

It had started out as a pretty typical day: two blow jobs beneath the pier before he spotted Sebastian Roche. That had been a spot of good luck; Sebastian always paid more than the typical trick because of his… eclectic tastes. But this morning, Sebastian had offered him more than double his usual rate, as well as cryptically adding, “plus train fare for the return trip.”

Instead of their usual routine, Sebastian had led him to the train depot and toward a nondescript steam engine on the westbound track. There, he’d introduced Jared to a startlingly handsome man, who, despite the fine, tailored appearance of his clothing, had his sleeves rolled up, suspenders on display and smudges of grease and ink on his trousers. “This,” said Sebastian, “is Dr. Ackles. This is his train. You don’t suffer from motion sickness, do you? He’s invited you to assist him in his research on the trip to Chicago.”

Jared’s attention had cut out approximately when he heard the words “this is his train”. He’d heard of people with private train cars, but never a private train. He was going to have to talk to Sebastian about exactly what his cut on this deal was. He mindlessly agreed to some terms that he really didn’t understand, (how bad could it be, really?) and followed Jensen into the car, leaving Sebastian on the platform and thinking it truly was his lucky day. And then the questions started. And then the measurements. And then, the other measurements. Jared was thinking that it was the strangest trick he’d ever turned, and that was before Dr. Ackles had shown him the laboratory car.

++++++++

When Jared came to, he was still strapped face down on the mechanism, but he was, for the moment, blessedly empty. As exquisite as the pleasure had been, it was his fourteenth hour on the train, and that sixth trial with Dr. Ackles’ machine had been a killer. He perceived that the stretcher that had been placed between his knees had been released, although the brass clamps that held his thighs affixed to the machine were still in place. His cock hung limp and drained between his legs, and Jared thought it might be several days before he’d be able to use it for any lucrative business.

“Ah, awake I see,” Dr. Ackles says, stepping into view. “Just in time for our next trial. This time, we’re going to investigate—”

“No,” Jared gasped. “No more, I can’t—”

“Oh, honey, I think you can.” Dr. Ackles dropped his detached researcher voice and stroked his hand up the length of Jared’s back as he walked towards the head end of the mechanism. He slipped two fingers into Jared’s mouth, and Jared found himself hungrily sucking them on reflex alone. Dr. Ackles' fingers were strong, but soft, not callused like the sailors at the pier. They tasted slightly of copper and ozone. Maybe he wasn’t finished after all. He raised his eyes to Dr. Ackles’ face and saw a lust there that was far from being sated, and he knew that he wouldn’t be finished until Dr. Ackles was satisfied, one way or another.

Dr. Ackles chuckled, low in his throat. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “If it helps, this will be the last test.”

Jared rested his cheek against the bracket that held his face in position. He was strangely disappointed by this pronouncement. He was exhausted, to be sure, but with each succeeding trial, Dr. Ackles had pushed the limits of Jared’s imagination and his body, and had transformed his definition of the word “pleasure”. That third trial? The one with the three-headed attachment? He had come to share Dr. Ackles appreciation of the benefits of a traveling steam-powered laboratory as his screams trailed behind them over the open, empty tracks.

“Perhaps you could use a little pick-me-up?” Dr. Ackles suggested.

Jared nodded, as much as the bracket would allow.

Dr. Ackles held a small vial of liquid up to Jared’s nostril, and pinched the other one shut while Jared inhaled. Oh yeah, that was the ticket. He was ready for another trial. He was ready several more trials. All at once, preferably. He felt warm and flushed, and if he didn’t get something crammed up his ass in the next few moments, he was going to find a way to break out of the device and man-rape Dr. Ackles on the spot.

Who, incidentally, was back to taking notes. Two fingers penetrated his ass experimentally. “Subject appears sufficiently lubricated from previous trials,” Dr. Ackles said to himself as he jotted down notes. Under his breath, he added, “so damn pretty.”

“Okay Jared, I’m going to move you back into position now.”

Jared had been conditioned by this point to associate the ratcheting sound of the crank Dr. Ackles turned with a sweet, anticipatory sort of pleasure as his thighs were spread wider and wider, and his hips were raised to align him with the device.

“Ready?” Dr. Ackles asked as he buckled the spreader into place between Jared’s knees. If Jared wasn’t mistaken, Dr. Ackles efforts to keep his clinical demeanor separate from the teasing, possessive lustful side he let out when Jared needed a little encouragement were starting to break down. Jared managed a tired smile and a weak thumbs up.

He recognized this attachment the moment the slick warm head came in contact with his exposed and sensitive hole. It was the attachment they had used for the first trial, what Dr. Ackles had referred to as the “baseline.”

“Things will go a bit slower this time,” Dr. Ackles said, as he scurried about adjusting dials and flipping switches. “Even… almost forgot!” he pulled down the mouthpiece for the call line that led to the engine compartment. “Slow down,” he commanded into the trumpet-like apparatus.

The decrease in momentum pushed Jared forward as the train slowed, then abruptly backward again as the speed leveled off. The tip of the attachment, which had already been aimed and ready, dipped into him briefly and out again as his body came to settle. A tease, that machine was.

At this lower speed, the uniform vibrations of the train devolved into a slower, throbbing rhythm, and Jared felt every seam and bolt on the track as the train jostled along. He groaned with need.

“Okay, now we’re ready,” Dr. Ackles said. “Now, you should be familiar with this,” he said, flipping the switch that activated the piston. The attachment penetrated Jared in earnest now, slow and maddeningly mechanical. In, a two count, then out. A pause, then in again. It dragged across his swollen and abused prostate and had him crying out immediately, and even he couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain.

Although the tortuous bump and grind of the train did change the sensation somewhat compared to the first trial, not much was different. He had just about settled into the slow, steady pleasure of it when he heard Dr. Ackles muttering as he took notes.

“…introducing device attachment number 42.16 at approximately 02.00 minutes after the commencement of anal stimulation"

Jared couldn't see what was going on, but he suspected Dr. Ackles was going to introduce a second probe alongside the first. Instead, Dr. Ackles felt around underneath for Jared's cock, and the next thing Jared knew, a rubber sleeve was wrapped around the entire length of his cock. With a soft hissing noise, it began to inflate.

Jared whimpered, and made frantic efforts to hump down into that gorgeous, grasping pressure. Until now, his cock had been untouched, each orgasm milked out of his prostate in aching, body-wracking spasms that lacked any sort of deep satisfaction. Had it not been for the six previous trials over the course of the day, he was sure he would have come instantly. As it was, he could feel the muscles deep in his pelvis working hard to find something to expel from his body, and coming up dry.

“… commencing suction at approximately 03.00 minutes after the commencement of anal stimulation.”

It was a good thing there was a great deal of industrial strength steel and brass fittings and leather strapping holding him together, because Jared’s body literally tried to turn itself inside out in a futile attempt to come. The soft rubber sucked at him, gently but insistently in rhythm with the probe up his ass and the whole damn train, stroking, sucking, and stroking and sucking, the wheels clacking over the track and driving him mad. The persistent penetration of the probe prevented him from rolling his hips down to meet the friction around his cock, while the straps and clamps prevented him from disengaging from the probe. Dimly, he heard Dr. Ackles speaking.

“… subject appears incoherent. Will administer…”

“No,” Jared gasped. ‘M’here. I’m here. I’m good.”

Dr. Ackles nodded, and made a note in his folder. “Jared, please indicate by pointing the level of—”

Jared had pointed before he could finish the instructions. The doctor frowned at the low score on the pictograph scale. “Are you sure, Jared? All your vital signs indicate that you are enjoying this modification at least as much as—”

“You,” Jared whined. “Need you.” He opened his mouth and extended his tongue delicately towards Dr. Ackles, hoping the doctor would get the message despite his lack of ability to form coherent sentences.

Dr. Ackles stared hard at Jared for a moment that felt like hours. Then he calmly put down his clipboard, took off his glasses, and stood in front of Jared. When Jared looked up, he saw that the doctor’s veneer of formality had been completely stripped away. “This,” he said, taking Jared’s chin in his hand, “is why I invented a machine like this in the first place.” His thumb grazed over Jared’s lips. “Open up,” he whispered, so low and dark, and yet the train could have been powered by the force of those words. “Let me see how deep.”

Jared opened obediently as Dr. Ackles once more slid two fingers over his tongue, brushing the surface with the pads of his fingertips, then worked them farther back, deeper, nudging the back of Jared’s throat, then delving deeper still. Jared let his throat open and his lips closed around Dr. Ackles knuckles, sucking in time to the machine, the primal beat that had taken over his entire body.

“Nice,” Dr. Ackles said as he slid his fingers out. Jared made a sound that he probably would have found embarrassing under other circumstances, but Dr. Ackles and his machine had reduced him to a creature that didn’t know the meaning of embarrassment, only of want and need and the desperate, desperate urge to be filled in every possible way. Jared watched as the doctor unbuttoned his trousers and shrugged out of his suspenders, letting the supple leather dangle by his hips. Only a thin layer of white linen separated him from what he needed and that too was soon pushed roughly aside.

“Dr. Ackles, please,” Jared pleaded. His body would not hold out much longer. Already electric jolts were shooting down the backs of his thighs, and he could feel the muscles in his groin convulsing uncontrollably, his body trying to come without his permission.

“Jensen,” the doctor said. “When my cock is in your mouth, you can call me Jensen.” With one hand, he grasped Jared’s chin and forced his mouth open with his thumb. With the other hand, he fed Jared his cock, straight down his throat.

That was it. Jared’s body broke. Every muscle fiber contracted, fist tight, and then exploded in release. And still, the contraption continued to fuck him, inside and out, relentless and precise, unresponsive to his exquisite distress. White roses bloomed behind his eyes and he struggled not to bite down hard on Jensen.

Jensen laughed warmly. “That’s it, baby, that’s what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?” He worked a finger in alongside his cock, stroking the crowns of Jared’s teeth, teasing the inner hinge of his jaw with his fingertip. Jared supposed that should make him gag, but he was open for Jensen in every way, loose and giving, come still pumping from his cock to pool on the laboratory floor like some sort of pagan offering.

“You think it’s been easy for me, either? Watching you spread those slutty thighs of yours, watching my machine have all the fun?” Jensen stroked his cock in and out of Jared’s mouth, matching the machine stroke for stroke at first, but then skipping a beat now, and then speeding up until Jared could do nothing but close his eyes and let himself be used. When Jensen came, Jared only knew by his tensed thighs and the pulsing flesh he felt on his tongue; not a drop went anywhere but directly down his clutching throat.

With a groan of pleasure, Jensen leaned forward as far as he could without disengaging his cock from Jared’s mouth, and pawed at a switch on the machine. Slowly, the piston retracted one last time and came to a halt, as the sleeve deflated and fell to the floor with a soft jangling of brass buckles. Jensen kept his cock in Jared’s mouth with one hand, and with the other, pushed aside the sweaty hair that was plastered to Jared’s forehead.

He took a long look at Jared, eyes appraising critically.

“On second thought,” he said, "I’ll have to talk to Sebastian. “I don’t think you’ll be needing money for the return trip after all.”


End file.
